


Stronger

by Taera



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Available in Russian, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Warm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 15:33:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5054206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taera/pseuds/Taera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There can be different kinds of foreplay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stronger

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Еще крепче](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5560021) by [Tatrien (Taera)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taera/pseuds/Tatrien). 



> The fic itself was written for "Fandom Combat 2015" ("Фандомная Битва 2015"). And now that the FC is over I can say that the author of this fic is actually me.  
> Not beta-read yet.
> 
> Enjoy! :3

“Master Cormac, what are you- …oh,” Shay looked up, his mischievously glinting eyes meeting with grey-green ones, and returned to the task of getting under the Colonel’s clothes.

Warmth and arousal rambled through him, spurring goosebumps up along his back, his arms. Something constricted in Shay’s chest and he struggled for air from the mere thought of what Monro would look like during sex. Moaning hoarsely, Shay pressed his lips to his lover’s thigh for a second; this simple touch sent sparks of delight even through the fabric. George’s hands had stopped lying on the chair’s arms, they shook off the stupor and joined the dance: Shay purred when fingers grasped his hair and looked up at Monro’s face once more, smiling broadly. Shay watched with anticipation how gentleness gave place to hunger (patient one, for now).

Perhaps, Cormac should have felt ashamed of how much he liked to stand on his knees between someone’s parted legs with his hair pulled in a fist. But, it seemed, he liked swallowing man’s cock even more – especially when he saw responses to his actions: breath growing heavier, nostrils flaring in passion, glare darkening with a dangerous hunger-

George gripped Shay’s hair with more force, knocking down his train of thought and returning him to the here and now. Monro knew Shay loved the strict treatment, but he never went over the line which he himself had put in place, though frequently he would come very closely to it – just enough for  the first butterflies of pain to show up and very efficiently strip Cormac of too long thoughts with their fast wingbeats. Shay closed his eyes and took a deep breath, blindly unfastening Monro’s breeches and taking his cock out with an all too familiar movement. He felt how George shuddered in pleasure from the contact.

“Shay,” his voice was hoarse, drenched in the calm power like in a thick fog, it wrapped around Shay’s spine like a stranglehold, melting it in hot bliss.

Shay looked up at George and exhaled loudly when saw all the emotions there, and all directed at him – George didn’t even try to hide anything. A month ago, seeing all this warmth – this heat – Shay felt black heaviness in his heart. But now a similar flame gaily scattered sparks and stretched towards the other flame, closer, closer yet.

Colorful butterflies fluttered around, tickling Shay from the inside with their semitransparent wings.

Without breaking eye contact, Cormac slowly, almost reverently moved closer, lightly pressed his lips to the tip of the cock. Licked delicate hot flesh. The palm gripped his hair stronger yet; with his other hand, Monro had clung to the chair's arm, making sure he won’t inflict unnecessary pain on Shay. One more time he licked Monro’s cock with one long languid stroke, from the base to the very tip, relishing in the taste and the smell, but most of all relishing in other things: how twitched the hand that was clutching armchair, how the knuckles on said hand turned white. How the cock jumped, now fully hard and ready.

Monro wanted to say something else, most likely to hurry Shay, and so he chose exactly this moment to go down and take him in his mouth to the hilt. Shay’s eyes closed involuntarily, so he didn’t see George throwing his head back, but he heard the moan falling from his lips perfectly clear. It was quiet – they didn't want to attract the attention of anyone outside of this room. After that, only wet noises and loud breathing disturbed the air, and no matter how hard Shay tried, he wasn’t able to coax out a reaction as vivid as one in the very beginning; Monro allowed himself no such liberties.

But his breathing… it was winded, tired, George gulped and after every several seconds pressed his lips firmly together, and then his whole body shook with a shudder, and Shay was barely able to hold back his own moans. His head was whirling when he thought about what he was doing to his lover, and with every swallowed groan the air grew hotter and thinner, the tight breeches – more and more unbearable, but even this tightness was sweet in its own way.

“What are you doing to me, Shay,” Monro breathed out almost inaudibly, moaned and pulled Shay by his hair (no pain, just gentle pulling), asking him to move away, so Shay, humming, obeyed.

His lips widened into a drunk smile on their own volition – looking into darkened eyes Shay realized what will happen in two seconds. The grip in his hair grew stronger.


End file.
